


A glittering jewel

by epistretes



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Sif, Blonde Sif (pre haircut), F/M, Loki tries to be smooth, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:30:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epistretes/pseuds/epistretes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is forced to go to the training grounds on occasion. On one such occasion, he tries to deny to himself his feelings for the shield-maiden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A glittering jewel

Loki hated being brought to the training grounds and away from his seiðr lessons. There was absolutely nothing to be gained by a group of people attempting to beat seven bells out of one another on a daily basis. Well, perhaps not 'nothing'. There was one thing, but he attempted to studiously ignore the way the Lady Sif's golden hair whipped around her in a beautiful halo that caught the sun's rays and lit up the entire arena. He refused to join the group of gawping men ogling at the beautiful shield-maiden. He was a _prince_ and his standards were higher than to pine after a girl who grappled in the dirt and bloodied any man who challenged her for sport.

No, for him would be a woman of high birth and good breeding. Perhaps a princess of the Vanir or an elven duchess from Álfheimr. Perhaps even one of the daughters of the thanes of Asgard, not a girl who was the second daughter of an Einherjar who wanted to be one herself some day. He was due so much more in a woman, he knew it. He would not stoop to a woman who prized a sword over a title, a woman who was currently rolling in the dirt to flip a much larger opponent across the ring in a smooth and practised movement. A woman who embodied the spirit and fight of war itself. A woman whose hair put the sun to shame and whose smile could light up the whole of Asgard. He deserved a beautiful woman who glittered in precious jewels... not one who was a glittering precious jewel herself.

Loki dipped his head to his silver blades and cleaned them studiously. He berated himself, for every liar knew to never buy in to one's own lies. He had wanted only three things in his life thus far: the love of his parents and Thor, the want to be seen as powerful in his own right and not as ergi as they whispered behind his back - and the Lady Sif. 

He heard a roar behind him as Sif must have beaten the oaf down as he knew she would and he spun to let his knives fly. Five at once, all peppering the target board with perfection. Were the board an enemy, all five knives would have hit a pressure point and caused a quick death. 

“Your skill improves,” came a voice at his ear and he ignored the prickling feelings sparking up his spine and turned to her. “They would improve more if you came here more often.”

“I have not the time to come here daily,” he replied, his smooth-as-silk voice betraying him a little by sounding defensive. “As your arts require constant study and honing, so do mine. This is a distraction.”

“I am sure I once heard you tell Thor that building a core strength was vital to the success of any seiðr.” Loki blinked at her in surprise. He had said that once, many moons ago and during a very raucous feast when Thor had told Loki he was too skinny. “That you did not need bulging muscles, simply a strong core and a good aim.”

“I am surprised you even heard such a comment whilst trying to fend off the interests of Fandral the Dashing,” Loki replied, flicking his wrist and his knives returned to his hand instantly, wiped clean and secreted away upon his person once more. 

“Yes, well, I rather made the point that eve that I was uninterested. He has not attempted to court me since,” she replied with a voice made of steel and velvet. 

“None have, the men are all too scared to declare a suit and seem contented to simply leer at you in these very training grounds,” he lowered his voice so they would not be overheard.

“No matter how many I defeat, they will always look at me as a woman, not a warrior” she countered in a similarly low voice.

“My lady,” Loki replied and, feeling emboldened, he lifted her hand to kiss it. “You are a warrior – and a woman also. Wear it, be proud of it and let none deride you for being the epitome of both.” At her startled look, he lowered her hand again and swept out of the grounds, hoping he looked impressive as he went.


End file.
